On a death note
by Felidae1
Summary: A small, sad rant centred on our beloved blond bishie Jounouchi Katsuya. Not related to the anime/manga of the same title


Unrelated to the anime/manga _Death Note,_ this is a dark, sad one-shot featuring our beloved blond bishie. Highly inspired by shared YT comments concerning how Jou just kept growing dumber as the series continued.  
Please beware that this is a very depressing fic; don't come here if you're looking for sunshine and smiles. There's no romance whatsoever eihter.

Disclaimer: If I owned it, I wouldn't be writing this. No rights, no money, no sue

Summary: A rant how TBTB screwed up a really great charachter

Warnings: mentions of death, depression, sad

_On a death note_

_"bloodpressure dropping below 60/20!"_

_"-oxygen, Now! Get everything ready for intubation!_

_"three units epinephrine and one amiodarone on standby!"_

_"-into cardiac arrest! We're losing him!"_

_"Defibrilator on 220-go!"_

_Ssshhhhzzt!_

_"No reaction. Still no pulmonary response!"_

_"Again, 250!"_

_Sssschhrrrzzz!_

_"No reaction! Try again!"_

_"-magnesium?"_

_"280! No, insufficient! Again!"_

_"Ready for intubation at your say!"_

_"300! Go!"_

_"We got him! He's back! He's back!"_

_Ok, we got- a pulse, irregular, but a pulse. Oxygen?"_

_"Tough time breathing, sensei. Not up to par."_

_"..we need to get him to a hospital. Now. He -we won't make it without a life support."_

_"EEG..mmtives, since...MRI..."_

He was dying.

It didn't matter.

_He_ didn't matter.

All that mattered was the role he played, the key elements he was supposed to provide, the good advice he could give.

It could have been done by anybody else.

He was just an instrument to furthen the events which had been set in motion long ago.

_He_, as a person, didn't matter.

It was getting harder and harder, these days.

After Battle City, his mind and body were so wired and simultanously exhausted, he just pushed on.

Then came the whole Dartz fiasco, where he had his soul ripped out, and still was supposed to be happy and goofy and quirky...

By the time the Kaiba Grand Prix came around, he couldn't bring himself to care.

He needed every ounce of strength just to keep up appearances.

It had not been a goof or his stupidity which had caused his inability to see through Sugoroku's half-hearted disguise.

It had plain and simply taken him so much to focus on the duel, that everything else had just..disintegrated.

There had been fireflies freckling his vision during the duel against Yuugi's grandfather, black spots when he battled Siegfried.

By the time they traveled to Egypt, he had stopped growing.

Never mind how much food he shoveled in, how much sleep he tried to get, his body burnt it up with barely any residue.

He never mentioned them.

The headaches.

Migraines, really.

A constant, supressed hum running from his temporal lobes(he had looked it up) up to his temples and dispersing somewhere behind his brow.

Sometimes, the hum grew, increased in strength and ferocity, until it felt as if cascades upon cascades of broken glass were pouring down steps, stairways of polished steel.

Gratefully, he rarely had these.

Also, he could feel them coming, knew the signs.

A cold, crystaline trickling coursing down the entire length of his gyrus cinguli, as if his blood cells had turned into tiny silvery chips of ice.

These were the only times he resorted to pain killers.

The prescription kind.

Usually, he would just sleep it out, but only when it didn't disrupt his school schedule.

Or work schedule.

Or meeting up with his friends...

So many factors, so little time.

He was dying.

Right there in front of everybody's eyes.

It didn't matter.

_He_ didn't matter.

He only had to hang in there a little longer, until his role in the play was expendable, superfluous.

Then he could die.

He didn't mind.

He'd done so before.

He could do it again.

And maybe this time, he would be able to leave.

Yes, it's kind of bitter, but it's mostly how I feel towards the writer/s of both the show and manga. They spent so much time on creating such a great character and then turned him into cannon fodder for a running gag that makes you want to run and gag.

Yes, I _am_ aware that he is the comedy relief, but at the same time his past is too dark and tragic to just brand and cast him off as the series' clown. It is a regression to a mere stand-in, lacking the edge and astuteness, the experience and self-esteem that he acclaimed throughout the early series.

For those wondering, the opening scene is the ER-team trying to reanimate Katsuya after his battle against Malik. The drugs here mentioned are standard for cardiac arrest patients.  
What I did was taking into account the many brushes Jou had with near-fatal injuries, particularly during Battle City: after a mindcontrol a near drowing, followed by a stroke of lightning and a mental onslaught which caused a complete physical shutdown. Another severe shock to the system when his soul was stolen, leaving him basically comatose.  
Here I decided that the parts suffering from the aftermath would be the gyrus cinguli, responsible for emotion, pain and attention, as well as the temporal lobes, which are vitaly important for hearing and speech comprehension of both spoken and written words.  
The migraines and 'cold trickling' are indicators that Katsuya's brain is literally dissolving, perhaps heralding a stroke.  
And everyone treats it so cavalier, as if he didn't need to be hospitalized and thouroghly examinded to make certain, there are no residual injuries which may later lead to complications.


End file.
